11:11
by Soncnica
Summary: Dean has a 'nice' chat with a ghost...but the ghost is way too informative.


**Hi! Okay so…ah I was **_whispers _**drunk two nights ago and this idea came to my mind when I was lying in my bed with the room spinning and spinning and spinning…and I just had to write it. **

**THIS IS NOT FOR the WEAKHEARTED (is that a real word? It's a funny word, but you get the point, right?). I don't want to be responsible for any nightmares although that would be fun, because I had a nightmare too. LOL anyway…yeah that is the only warning I have…don't tell me I didn't warn you…**

**I don't own the boys, but I do own any mistakes, grammar or otherwise. **

**Enjoy…**

**---**

_**11:00pm**_

"Sam!!!" the scream for his brother tore out of his throat and drifted into the cold night.

"Oh no, you aint' going nowhere!" the words were slurred, barely escaping the big, dark hole that was once a mouth. It was guarded with three teeth, three long, swaying teeth that hadn't had the chance to fall out yet.

A small hand, slick with something green running down its wrist stopped Dean's attempt at scrambling away. There was skin missing on the palm, bones protruding from the flesh…no nails on the fingers, just red flesh.

"Get off of me, you sick bitch!"

One long finger, missing a tip, slipped onto the small dip near Dean's collarbone, pressing in and in and in, making Dean scream: "Aaaaaaah!"

"Nowhere to run, boy!" it hissed out between its rotten teeth. Only two were left now, one got lost in Dean's jacket.

_**11:02pm**_

"Dean!!!"

No answer and a pit in his stomach, deep enough to house an elephant.

_**11:02pm**_

"You have no idea…" it hissed, right into Dean's nose…a smell enveloped him, went straight into his lungs, and almost choked him to death.

"Aaaarrrrgh, God!"

Dean dug his heels into the wet dirt, his fingers into a small puddle near his hip… trying to find some purchase, trying to feel something solid, something to hold onto, trying to find some way to lash out, strike and break. But you can't hit a ghost…not without some salt or iron or…something he didn't have at the moment.

"Do you know how it is to be dead but still feel like you're dying?"

The ghost twisted its hand on Dean's forearm: "I mean I always thought that when you die, your soul goes bye bye…Heaven or Hell…and your body stays here to rot?"

Dean blinked.

"Boy was I wrong. I can still feel things crawling inside me, over me, eating me…"

"Must suck." Dean gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

"Make jokes boy, you'll dye too one day…everyone does…it's the only thing that's sure."

Dean swallowed the thick fear that crawled up his throat.

"Yeah well, I'm gonna get cremated anyway. No one to crawl on me." _If Sammy'll do his job right._

The ghost laughed, raising its head.

"Cremation? You'll burn for eternity."

"Yeah well, at least maggots aren't gonna crawl all over me, you bitch."

"You'd rather be on fire?"

"Story of my life."

That didn't throw the ghost out of its way, it only made it angrier. It tightened the grip it had on Dean drawing out a sharp cry from him, a cry that echoed through the empty cemetery, scaring an owl of its branch.

When Dean's breathing came back to semi normal: "I love all this sharing and caring crap," a pant, "but why don't you go disintegrate somewhere else, hm?!"

"Do you know how it feels like, when your own body breaks down and starts eating your own organs?"

"Sam!!!"

"Then your muscles stiffen and you want to move but you can't, because it's not your body anymore."

"Sammy!...God, bitch let me go!"

"Then you go cold, so cold…"

It put its hands on Dean's chest, leaving some of the green stuff on his jacket, letting it run down to the ground, leaving some of its skin there too.

"Then it's those pesky flies, the flies you chased away whenever they hit your food…they lay their eggs in you, on you…there isn't a hole they can't get into."

"Sam!!!...you bitch, get off me!"

But all attempts at getting free were in vain. The ghost was strong, stronger then Dean.

"And then those nagging wasp and the ants and insects…they come and they eat the crap the flies put in you…and they bite you and it burns and it's like being poured with acid."

"You're one sick bastard, aren't you?!"

"Was, boy…I was."

It laughed right into Dean's face, and pressed its broken legs deeper into Dean's ribs: "Argh!!!"

Dean could have sworn there was a rib that broke under pressure.

_**11:06pm**_

"Dean!!!"

Panic so strong he could move mountains with.

_**11:06pm**_

"You have no idea, how it is…death." it snarled at him…showing off the black and green teeth, laughed with lips as thin as paper. Blue lips, parted lips, a door to the black smelly cave.

"Oh girly, I think you don't know either." Dean hissed out, between breaths…air that was stale and heavy with rotten flesh making it almost visible in the cool, autumn air.

"You can feel…maggots eating you away…it tickles…it's a tickle you can't scratch…it drives you mad."

Dean's eyes widened at exactly the moment when the ghost's turned into mere slits, only a ray of blackness shining through.

"Then you bloat up, things eating your tissue, the smell of you…rotting. You can feel it all!"

Dean grabbed handful of the mud that the puddle made…he could feel it underneath his fingertips, slipping away from his hand…like time…like dirt. He wanted to shove a fistful of it into the ghost's face, but his hand was pinned down to the grass by the ghost's hand…or what was left of it.

The moon was just a crack in the night sky, bathing in the darkness along with some stars that escaped the dark clouds.

"Worms that slide into you through your ears, through your mouth, through your eyes when they've eaten it away….or not. They eat away your brain...where you kept your ideas, memories, thoughts…they just eat it away like it was nothing."

"Sam!!!"

"And here we are, boy…"

"You're going down, so help me God…"

"Oh, but I already am down."

"Well you're going down for good this time."

"Says who?"

_**11:11pm**_

"Me!"

One Zippo into a hole and everything was gone.

"Took you long enough Sammy." It was said breathlessly as he attempted to stand up from the cold, wet ground. The grass squished beneath his palm, when he attempted to rest his weight on it…and Sam's big, strong grip under his armpit, hauling him up, broke the connection he had with the slippery soft grass of the graveyard.

"Yeah well, 'm here now." it was said with a grunt when Dean's whole weight landed on his right side.

Feeling Sam…a pressure of being alive. Warm.

"Had a nice chat?"

"It was awesome, yeah...really. Awesome."

"You two seemed friendly enough."

"She was a psycho, Sam."

"Oh now it's a 'she'."

"Shut up!" after a beat: "Let's go eat, 'm craving some burgers."

---

**The End**

**So yeah…the idea was basically…what if when you die you can still feel everything that goes on with your body? I should never ever drink again, right? yeah…**


End file.
